There’s one common thread of pattern I’ve noticed from my journal entries over the years: how I’m seemingly almost always worried about one thing or the other.
If it’s not an upcoming exam, it’s the minor swelling I found on my palm a few months ago (it turned out to be easily fixed by antibiotics and not the hemangioma or cancerous growth I had worried it could be. Side note: don’t Google your symptoms, but also maybe don’t actually be a doctor too).
I’ve since concluded that worrying is an activity.
But beyond that, I suspect it’s an addictive one — and one that has plagued me a lot more recently.
Why does this keep happening, and what can we do about it?
Why do we worry?
Worrying is a natural and ubiquitous part of daily living.
We worry if we’ll make it in time for that important appointment, if we’ve run out of groceries, if our partner is still in love with us, if we remembered to turn off the gas before we left the house.
Our ability to project the future is a fundamental part of our intelligence as the human species. But this trait intended for productively predicting outcomes and taking necessary actions, such as health vigilance as this study shows, can hurriedly take a negative turn.
At its extreme, worry gives way to depression and severe anxiety.
Different reasons are proposed for why we often worry. For example, research done by Borkovec et al. in 2004 showed that worry is a means to manage our emotional reactivity. Simply put, we worry because it helps us avoid negative emotions from outcomes by “preparing for the worst”. This is a cognitive error, at best.
A more recent study showed counter results: not only did worry not prevent negative feelings, it prolonged them.
In the brain, with the central nucleus of the amygdala as the mediator of emotional regulation and acute stress, the bed nucleus of the stria terminalis—for more sustained worry—has been shown to have higher activation levels, particularly in those with full-blown anxiety. This can help determine cause, effect and treatment modalities.
Other psychologists have theorised that chronic worry comes from childhood experiences, from being bullied a lot to not receiving adequate love and attention from a parent. I can’t personally attest to these reasons as they were not my experience.
Another:
“However, another reason – which feels particularly relevant now – is that people often conflate worry with problem-solving.” — Sandra Llera, PhD
In a twist of fate, we sometimes believe that worrying is a way to alleviate a pending sorrow. This can be constructive if we actively think ahead with solutions rather than simply wallowing in irrational despair.
This is step one.
What has helped so far?
Epiphany: I’ve realised there’s no shortage of things to worry about.
Rapidly mutating viruses. Inflation and rising prices. Our fleeting mortality.
As someone who considers herself a spiritual (rather than religious) person, I’ll admit this has helped alleviate some more mundane fears. This doesn’t surprise me. Studies show that “religion” (using that term loosely) significantly reduces anxiety levels.
Rapidly mutating viruses. Inflation and rising prices—
But another helpful thing is reminding myself how worrying actually does nothing for me. Or perhaps that isn’t entirely true. In fact, it has a net negative effect — worse than nothing. It makes me more neurotic, often unable to eat and significantly less productive with work and projects.
Rapidly mutating viruses—
It’s difficult to explain, but I’ve simply grown tired of worrying. It’s as though a switch in my brain went off, as though I was suddenly bored with the idea.
R—
“Stop.”
To be transparent, this was a spontaneous post, so I don’t have it all figured out yet. But I’d love to hear your thoughts.
I wholeheartedly agree that worrying can be addictive. Better if it’s constructive but that’s hardly ever the case.